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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665609">i literally have no idea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetsundae/pseuds/sunsetsundae'>sunsetsundae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sally Face (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Larry is in a biker gang, M/M, No ghosts or cults, Sal is a Tattoo Artist, Tsunderes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 00:34:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetsundae/pseuds/sunsetsundae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>sal owns a tattoo shop. larry wants to get more tattoos. ash is annoyed that they aren't together yet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>the tattoo shop owner Sal concept is from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389334">"Half Dressed and Barefoot" by ironiclittlebaby</a></p><p>this fic is still a major wip but i have to post it today or else my draft is getting deleted so WHOOP</p><p>title is subject to change</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was one of the days that Sal was thankful he put “sometimes earlier, sometimes later” on the sign in the window of his shop that displayed the hours. It was almost one in the afternoon when he finally woke up, having had terribly fitful sleep thanks to the nightmares his subconscious liked to cook up for him at night when he was trying to sleep. Groaning, Sal sat up, holding his head and trying to will it to stop pounding. Typically when someone woke up far past the time they were supposed to be at work with a raging headache, it meant they had been drinking the night before, but Sal had been sober for years. He was just lucky, he supposed. His body seriously had it out for him. </p><p>Sal slid out from under the warm covers of his bed, yanking the cord that closed his blinds as he passed his window, cutting off the sun’s intrusive rays. He walked into his bathroom, dry swallowed a couple advils, and turned on the shower. The warm water felt nice on his skin, and he was in no rush to leave the safe confines of it and go out into the real world with people, but he supposed if he wanted to make a living (not to mention afford rent) he should go to work. He shut off the water before he could convince himself to just close for the day and got out, finger combing his long blue hair before tossing it up on his head in a bun. He made his way to his closet, where he pulled on a Sanity’s Fall T-shirt and some black jeans, completing the look with his combat boots. Once he was showered, dressed, and had brushed his teeth, he picked up his prosthetic off of his nightstand and fastened it to his face. After one more look at himself in the full body mirror on his wall, he nodded at his reflection and grabbed his backpack and keys.</p><p>The walk to the shop wasn’t a long one, but on days like today it felt like it. The sun was beating down on Sal as he walked, and the fact that he was wearing all black was not doing him any favors. By the time he got to the shop he was dying for a drink of water. He unlocked it and let himself inside, flipping on the fluorescent blue open sign as he did so and pulling back the curtains that covered the large glass windows while they were closed. Luckily, nobody seemed to be waiting on him, so he was able to set down his things and get himself a water bottle from the fridge in the back room, drinking half of it in one go before setting down and starting to boot up the computer.</p><p>It was a weekday, so Sal hadn’t expected it to be busy, but when nobody had shown up in two hours, he was beginning to regret not just staying in bed all day and keeping the shop closed. He could feel his headache coming back and he tried to ignore it as he aggressively played his game on his GearBoy, which he only busted out in times he was truly bored. This was one of those times.</p><p>It was almost four when the bell on the door finally dinged. Sal swiveled around from the computer, where he had been sketching a design, to look at the customer that had just entered. He recognized Ashley immediately, and when she caught his eye across the counter she smiled and waved.</p><p>“What’s up, Ash?” Sal said, standing from his seat and walking over to her. Her long brown hair was in a tight braid and she was wearing a leather jacket over a purple tank top. She must be on the motorcycle today.</p><p>“Oh, nothing, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I would say hi. Are you doing alright?”</p><p>Sal nodded. “Yeah dude, of course.”</p><p>“You seem kind of out of it.”</p><p>He narrowed his eyes at her. Not that she could see it. “Why are you asking?”</p><p>She shrugged, sitting down in one of the plush chairs. “A friend of mine came up here just after the time you were supposed to open and said the place was still closed. I mentioned the “sometimes later” part of your hours but I wanted to come by and make sure you were alright.” Her tone held nothing more than genuine concern. Sal softened.</p><p>“My bad. I just woke up late and had a pretty bad headache, that’s all.”</p><p>Ash blinked at him, but didn’t press any further. “Alright. You can let me know if you need anything, Sal. You hungry? I was gonna swing by the cafe for some lunch, I can pick you up a burger if you’d like.”</p><p>Sal shook his head. “Thanks for the offer. I do have one question though,” he said, walking around the counter and leaning on it with his hands in his pockets. “This friend of yours you said came up when I was closed. Do I know them?”</p><p>“No, he’s new in town.”</p><p>Sal hummed. “I just feel bad that a friend of one of my best friends and most loyal clients had to miss out. Tell him if he wants to come by today or tomorrow I’ll discount whatever he gets.”</p><p>The corners of Ash’s mouth turned up a little bit. “That’s nice of you Sal, I’ll be sure to let him know. He’s probably still just unpacking.”</p><p>“Where did he move from? And how did you guys meet?”</p><p>“Funny actually, he moved here from my hometown. We had already known each other from grade school.”</p><p>“Oh wow. Small word,” Sal said. He wondered what kind of person this guy was if he and Ash had been friends in grade school. He didn’t even really know what Ash was like in grade school. </p><p>“Haha, yeah. Anyways, I’ll see you later, Sal.”</p><p>“Later.”</p><p>The bell dinged and once again Sal was alone, the only sound filling the shop being the metal music drifting from the speakers at a pretty low volume. With a sigh he walked back around the counter to resume his sketch.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>He was seriously considering just closing up for the day. The sun was setting and the only people who had come in after Ash were some kids who were unable to show a valid ID who he had to turn them away, and a woman who wanted an intricate floral pattern on her hip and huffed at him that it was “too fucking expensive” when he gave her a quote before storming out the door. The entire day was a waste of electricity, Sal thought to himself bitterly, gathering his pencils and sketchbook and shoving them into his bag, ready to leave. As he was shutting down the laptop he heard the revving of a very powerful engine rolling right up to the storefront, and he looked up expecting to see Ash again, although he wasn’t sure why she would come by twice in one day. </p><p>The figure that got off of the motorcycle (that definitely wasn’t Ash’s motorcycle, now that Sal was looking at it) was tall, and had dark brown hair that exploded from the helmet and flew in all directions, likely mussed by the wind of riding with no way of keeping it at bay. The figure was also over six feet tall, and Ash definitely was not. Sal put his backpack back down, wondering what kind of tattoo this person was going to want.</p><p>Sal stared as the man took off his helmet and shook his head briefly, his hair following. He combed his fingers through it and set his helmet down on his bike, finally turning to look towards the shop and making direct eye contact with Sal, who almost died on the spot. The guy was around his age, his eyes as dark as his hair, accented by thick eyebrows and a little mole under his eye. He wasn’t the most attractive person Sal had ever seen but something about him made Sal’s heart stop beating for just a moment. He knew that the tinted windows prevented the man from seeing inside, but he still couldn’t help but feel like this newcomer was staring straight at him. He approached the shop and Sal finally came to life, scrambling to look like he was doing something other than staring at this stranger.</p><p>The bell jingled as he entered, and Sal continued to face his computer for a moment, his heart in his throat. After what he considered to be a reasonable few seconds, he turned and faced the stranger, crossing his arms and trying to look as nonchalant as possible. “How can I help you?” he asked.</p><p>“How much for a tattoo?” His voice was very nice. It made Sal short circuit for a second, but then he realized the question that he just asked, and his haze immediately lifted and he felt irritation bubbling to the surface. So this guy was a dumbass.</p><p>“I need a little more than that to go off of, bud,” Sal deadpanned. </p><p>The man chuckled. “I know, I was just fucking with you. Nice mask, by the way.”</p><p>Not a dumbass. A smartass. Even better.</p><p>“It’s a prosthetic. What do you want?” Sal asked.</p><p>The man crossed his arms, mirroring Sal’s position. The leather of his jacket creaked. “I actually don’t think I’m going to get anything today.”</p><p>“So what, you came in here just to have a nice chat?” Sal asked, growing more irritated by the second.</p><p>When the man beamed, Sal could see a small gap in his front teeth. “Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine, my man.”</p><p>“You’ve come into my tattoo shop, asked me a stupid fucking question just to mess with me, then tell me you don’t even want a tattoo. I literally have no reason to even still be talking to you.”</p><p>He tutted and made an expression like he was hurt. “I’m just trying to meet the new neighbors, man. Ash said you were cool, but maybe she’s biased.”</p><p>Wait. Ash?</p><p>“Oh,” Sal said dumbly. “Are you the friend she mentioned? That came up here earlier?”</p><p>“You mean when you were supposed to open?” He countered instead of answering the question that Sal was more interested in knowing the answer to. “Yes. Not a good way to run a business, by the way. Maybe if you had been here I would have gotten something.”</p><p>Sal frowned deeply, and it made him even more irritated that this man couldn’t see his expression due to his prosthetic, meaning he probably had no idea how angry he was making Sal. “You’re not funny.”</p><p>“My friends think I am,” he countered immediately. He smiled again and held out a hand, leaning over the counter. “I’m Larry Johnson.”</p><p>Sal didn’t get up, and kept his arms crossed. “Sal. Fisher.”</p><p>Larry dropped his hand, undeterred. “I would say it’s nice to meet you but you’re not exactly the nicest person I’ve met today. You not get enough sleep last night or something?”</p><p>“That’s none of your business,” Sal shot back, a little too aggressively, and Larry immediately held up his hands in mock surrender.</p><p>“Sorry dude,” he said, and he sounded serious. “But really, sick ass place you got here. And your arm sleeves? Metal. Who did all your ink?”</p><p>Sal really had no interest in talking to this guy anymore, especially about himself, and especially when this man was the only thing stopping him from locking the door and going home. However, he figured maybe he would leave sooner if he would humor him.</p><p>“You wouldn’t know any of the artists. I got most of these back in Jersey.”</p><p>“You’re from Jersey?”</p><p>Sal nodded.</p><p>“Sweet, dude,” Larry said. “What made you want to move out here?”</p><p>Sal wasn’t really sure how to answer that. He never really is. He just shrugged. “Fresh start.”</p><p>“Hey man, I can dig that. Same for me too. I like it here so far though, and I’m glad I still remembered Ash lived here and got in touch with her.” Larry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Hey,” he said, brightening and looking down at Sal’s chest. “Is that a Sanity’s Fall shirt?”</p><p>As if he didn’t already know it was, Sal looked down at the black shirt he was wearing to confirm it. “Yeah, it is. You listen to them?”</p><p>“Dude,” Larry said, unzipping his leather jacket and opening it to reveal a faded beige T-shirt with the Sanity’s fall logo on the chest. “They’re my all time fucking favorite.”</p><p>Sal smiled a little against his will, and this time he was glad that Larry couldn’t see his face. “Cool,” he said simply.</p><p>Larry zipped his jacket back up. “You smoke?” he said out of the blue.</p><p>“Not really. I mean I have but I haven’t since probably high school.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Larry said. “Well, I have some Sanity’s Fall CDs and some pretty potent stuff at my place if you ever want to chill with me and Ash once I get settled in.”</p><p>It was a reasonable request to make, seeing as they had a friend in common and now obviously had a mutual interest, but it irritated Sal that this guy was being so friendly. And flustered him at the same time. And it was fucking annoying.</p><p>“Maybe,” he said, noncommittally. </p><p>Larry seemed satisfied with that answer. “Alright then, dude, I’ll be seeing you. Next time I’m here I’ll actually get something, that’s a promise.” Sal just nodded in response, and Larry headed out the door with a wave and “later” before starting his bike and riding off, his hair flowing behind him like a curtain.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few days passed and Sal hadn’t thought about Larry. Well, not that much at least. Okay, maybe a decent amount. But who could blame him? The guy was kind of attractive, Sal could admit, and the fact that he took no bullshit and was friendly even when Sal was being kind of an asshole was kind of nice. Not that Sal would ever tell him that, or even tell Ash, who he had texted as soon as Larry left to tell her that he met her friend and didn’t think much of him. Once again, that was only kind of a lie. The second Larry had roared out of sight on his motorcycle, Sal was thinking of him. A lot. And it was really fucking annoying.</p><p>At some point Larry had gotten Sal’s phone number, probably from Ash, and had texted him about all three of them hanging out again. When Sal pointedly ignored the message, Larry sent him a laughing emoji with the word “figured”. Once again Sal had said nothing back.</p><p>Thinking about the exchange was making his cheeks burn, and his prosthetic was stifling on top of the heat. He paused for a moment to tug at the collar of his shirt, staring down at the half finished ink on the person beneath him’s arm.</p><p>“You good?” The customer asked, looking up from his phone to look at Sal. Sal took a breath and shook his head to clear it.</p><p>“Yeah man, I’m good, let’s finish this up.”</p><p>The man nodded and Sal turned the needle back on, the buzzing noise drowning out the metal music that was playing in the background. After about ten minutes he had finished the shading and did one final swipe of the tattoo.</p><p>“Alright dude,” he said, rolling his chair back to set the needle on the table. “Take a look and tell me what you think.”</p><p>The customer stood up and walked a few feet to look in the full body mirror that was nestled on the wall among the frames of Sal’s art. He turned his arm around, admiring Sal’s handiwork. The new ink was a snake that wrapped around his wrist and stopped just at his elbow. It was all black with red eyes, and Sal was pretty proud of himself. The man seemed satisfied with it as well, nodding in approval. He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and counted out the bills, handing Sal the agreed upon amount plus a small tip before thanking him and heading out. Sal pocketed the cash and started cleaning up, wiping down the chair and starting on the needle.</p><p>While he was cleaning the shop phone started ringing. He swiveled over to his desk in his rolling chair and picked it up. “Tattoo shop,” he said into the reciever.</p><p>“You have any clients right now?”</p><p>Sal recognized Larry’s voice instantly and frowned as he unbuckled the bottom straps of his prosthetic so he could take a long drink from his water bottle. “No, why?” she said before he took a swig.</p><p>“Can I come and get a tattoo?”</p><p>Sal set his bottle down and worked on strapping his mask back on with one hand, holding the phone with the other. “Depends. I have an appointment booked in about two hours so it can’t be something that’ll take too long.”</p><p>“Great, I’ll be there in five!” He hung up before Sal could say anything. Sal set the phone back down and sighed, going to set up his workstation for Larry so he could hopefully get him in and out quickly. True to his word, the rumbling of Larry’s motorcycle pulled into the parking lot almost exactly five minutes later. Sal’s heart jumped as the shop door opened.</p><p>“What’s up dude?” Larry said to Sal’s turned back. Sal turned back and looked at him. He was wearing black pants with a chain as a belt, thick combat boots, and a tank top with the Sanity’s Fall logo on it. His leather jacket was draped over his arm.</p><p>“So, what are you thinking about getting?” Sal asked.</p><p>Larry shrugged. “Dunno. Never even had a tattoo before.”</p><p>“You don’t have any?” Sal asked. Larry shook his head. “I would have expected you to have at least a couple.”</p><p>Larry smirked. “Why, because I drive a motorcycle and listen to metal music? You shouldn’t assume things about people, dude.”</p><p>Sal scoffed. “I’m just saying, it fits your vibe.”</p><p>“My vibe?”</p><p>“Your vibe.”</p><p>Larry snickered to himself and Sal glared at him. Not that he could read his facial expressions, but still.</p><p>“What do you want?” Sal asked.</p><p>Larry shrugged. “I was kind of just going to let you go with it. Now that you seem to know exactly what my vibe is I think I’m definitely okay letting you pick something out for me. Just don’t tattoo a dick on me, please.”</p><p>Sal crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t,” he replied simply. Larry smiled at him.</p><p>“Good. I’m ready when you are.”</p><p>Sal looked at Larry for a moment, thinking this over. The taller male sat down on Sal’s chair and started looking around at all of the art, posters, and other miscellaneous decorations on the walls. Sal continued looking at him, trying to decide where his first tattoo should go. He could go for an area like the chest, which would be super bold. Or his back, but he knew from experience most people wanted to start in a place that they could easily see when it was done. Maybe on his leg? Hm. </p><p>“Okay, I know where I’m putting it.”</p><p>Larry turned to look at him and smirked. “What, I don’t get to decide?”</p><p>Sal frowned. “Did you have a place in mind?”</p><p>“Nope, just fucking with you again,” Larry said with a grin.</p><p>Sal groaned in response. “Okay, then shut the fuck up and lay down.”</p><p>Larry laughed but did as he was told. The tank top he was wearing left his shoulders exposed, and Sal had chosen Larry’s left one as the perfect canvas. He sat down in his chair, thanking his past self for already getting everything set up. He sprayed Larry’s shoulder with rubbing alcohol and used the cheap drugstore razor in his other hand to shave the area clean. Larry giggled and Sal smacked his arm.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said. “It tickled. Didn’t know you had to shave me to tattoo me.”</p><p>“Duh,” Sal mumbled in response. He finished the shave, wiped the area with a paper towel, and then opened his jar of vaseline, scooping a generous amount onto his fingers and spreading it over Larry’s skin, rubbing in circles that might seem rough but were just general procedure for Sal. Larry’s eyes fluttered closed and he held his arm still, laid gently on his back, as Sal worked on his shoulder.</p><p>Larry was easy, staying almost perfectly still with his eyes comfortably closed. He looked relaxed, and Sal was thankful that he was one of those clients that stayed still and was easy to work on. After almost an hour, Sal was making good headway, and he was convinced that Larry was actually asleep, until a moment later when he softly murmured, “Could I possibly take a break to go out and smoke a cigarette?”</p><p>Sal hummed in response, turning off the needle. He wiped the tattoo with a damp paper towel and pushed himself back in his chair to set the needle down. “Go head. Don’t look at it yet though, it’s not even halfway done.”</p><p>The taller man made a grunt of affirmation and stood up, walking coolly out the door and pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Sal sighed to himself and pulled out his phone to check it, although he didn’t have any notifications. After only about five minutes, Larry came back in and was ready to continue, the smell of smoke clinging to his skin and clothes. He laid back down in the same position that he had been in before, but this time he kept his eyes open as Sal wiped his shoulder down again and started going back to work. Larry blinked at the ceiling, then watched Sal from the corner of his eye until Sal finally told him bluntly to quit it. Larry chuckled and closed his eyes again. Sal rolled his, then continued.</p><p>The total time was about three hours, and when Sal was finally satisfied with how it looked he wiped it off a few times, then wiped a hearty amount of petroleum jelly on it and spread it around. He looked over it one more time, and Larry opened his eyes again, looking directly into Sal’s. </p><p>“Finished?” he asked, and Sal nodded.</p><p>“Go take a look,” he said, pointing to the full body mirror hung on the wall.</p><p>Larry stood and walked over to the mirror, his shoulder facing it so he could see it. The piece was of a human skull, broken in places and frozen in a still state of splintering away. Surrounding it were roses, and the entire piece was done in the grey wash style, giving it a range of grey and black colors to make the shading look as realistic as he could get to a real skull.</p><p>“This looks so fucking badass,” Larry breathed, completely mesmerized in the mirror, flexing his arm at himself. He turned back to Sal, a huge grin on his face, the gap in between his front teeth staring a blushing Sal in the face. “You’re a god.”</p><p>Sal made a pshhhh sound. “Whatever, dude. $150.”</p><p>Larry pulled two hundred-dollar-bills from his pocket. “Take it. You deserve it.”</p><p>“You don’t need to tip me,” Sal said. </p><p>“But I want to,” Larry said. “I’m really impressed. Like very. This is a perfect first tattoo.”</p><p>Sal was beginning to get uncomfortable by how hot his face was behind his mask. Fuck, he thought to himself. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice a little breathy. He hoped Larry didn’t notice. He had to admit that Larry looked really good with the skull on his arm. It fit his entire bad boy biker aesthetic.</p><p>“...Anyways,” Larry said after Sal was silent for a moment and it began to get a little awkward. “Me and Ash are hanging out at my place tonight. Kinda like a lowkey housewarming thing. Would you want to come?”</p><p>“Uh, I dunno, maybe,” Sal said, noncommittally. He was beginning to clean up his table and then wiped down the chair that Larry had been laying down on.</p><p>“It’s fine if you don’t want to. But like I said, I have some good shit at my place and if that’s not your speed I think Ash said she’s bringing along some alcohol. And if you don’t really care for either that’s cool too, we’ll just be chilling it’s not a big thing.”</p><p>Sal pursed his lips. Not that Larry could see it. He straightened his back and turned to face him. The taller male had his leather jacket slung over his non-tattooed shoulder, looking at Sal with a slight smile on his face. His other hand was in his pocket and his shirt sleeve was still pulled up to show his new tattoo was in full view, the skin around it still red and irritated with small little bubbles of blood along the darker lines. </p><p>“Fine. I’ll go. Now get over here and let me wrap your tat.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry for the slow updates homies, im trying to write two different fics at once on top of being in college and working LOL but i will eventually finish this fic</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was much less awkward than Sal had anticipated. Ash was a great mediator, and she always knew how to keep the conversation going even when Sal was too quiet to interject. Larry was similar, and since he and Ash already knew each other, they flowed together, and it was so obvious they were old friends. Maybe they had even dated previously, Sal thought to himself as Ash passed Larry the joint and their fingers brushed briefly. He wasn’t sure why the thought upset him so much. He was, as usual, glad that his mask was able to hide his sharp frown and warm cheeks as he averted his eyes down to his fingers, picking at his black nail polish.</p>
<p>“Man, this shit lowkey itches,” Larry griped after blowing out a mouthful of smoke, lifting his sleeve to scratch at his tattoo. Sal reached over and smacked his hand. “Ouch! Dude, what gives?”</p>
<p>“Don’t scratch it, you can damage it and then I’ll have to fucking touch it up. That’s like rule number one of tattoos, leave them alone and let them heal.”</p>
<p>Larry shrugged. “My bad dude, never had one before, remember?” He smiled, showing that gap in between his teeth again. Sal crossed his arms and looked away, breathing a sigh of frustration and not even bothering to try and act like he wasn’t irritated. Ash looked between them, something Sal couldn’t quite read in her eyes.</p>
<p>“Come on guys, let’s not be like that.”</p>
<p>“I’m not being like anything,” Larry protested, handing the joint back to her again. “Just know that my shoulder itches like a motherfucker right now.”</p>
<p>Sal refused to say anything, and for a moment it was quiet aside from the quiet screaming of the Sanity’s Fall singer coming from the speaker on the dresser. “I shouldn’t have come,” he says to himself.</p>
<p>“Sally, don’t be like that,” Ash says, laying a hand on his arm. Her touch calmed him slightly and he let the tension fade from his chest slightly. He didn’t like this proximity to Larry, who was making him angry but also flustered at the same time just by looking at him. Like, how can one single person be so confident in themselves? Not that Sal wasn’t confident, it was just that… Jesus, he didn’t know. Something about Larry’s behavior just got under his skin, and that fucking (adorable) gap-toothed smile was NOT helping.</p>
<p>“I’m going home, I’m just… I can’t be around you… guys,” he said, trying not to make it obvious that it was Larry that was bothering him. “Or the weed. The smell brings me back to shit I don’t want to think about.”</p>
<p>He hated pulling that card, but he knew it would work, and his suspicions were right when Ash lowered her arm and made a face at him. She knew how hard it was for him when his mom died, and she never ever would think about pressing the issue, or asking beyond an initial offer if he wanted to drink or smoke. The answer was always no, because sometimes the only thing Sal could cling onto was his sobriety, along with his art.</p>
<p>Larry was uncharacteristically quiet, his hands folded in his lap, the roach of the joint long forgotten in the ashtray. Sal moved towards the door and the brunette stood up to follow him, opening the door as Sal grabbed his jacket, as if this was his fucking house and it was his fucking job to open the door and see him out. So they did date in the past. It’s the only thing that made sense.</p>
<p>Pushing out the door, Sal started walking towards the road, the humidity in the air thick as the first drops of rain began to fall.</p>
<p>“Sal?” Larry called, and against his better judgement Sal turned around.</p>
<p>“Dude, it’s about to rain. I don’t know how far your place is, but do you want like, a ride?”</p>
<p>Sal wanted to protest, looking over his shoulder again towards the road, an orange streetlight highlighting the raindrops as they began to fall harder. His walk home was a few miles, and it would kind of suck ass to walk. He didn’t want to say yes, especially because Larry had smoked, but from what Sal could tell he was no stranger to the substance, and didn’t even look high at the moment, as opposed to Ash who Sal had already seen take a few shots as well as a few tokes, so she shouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.</p>
<p>Unclenching his fists, (why did he have them clenched in the first place?) Sal let his anger dissipate as the rain began to soak into his hair.</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay,” he said, and Larry smiled, heading back into the house to grab his keys.</p>
<p>In his momentary lapse in judgement, Sal forgot about Larry’s vehicle. Oh my god. He drove a fucking motorcycle. Sal was going to have to hold onto his waist. Before he could make up some lame excuse that he didn’t need a ride anymore, Larry was already out the door after calling goodbye to Ash, and waving Sal over to his bike that was parked right outside her apartment door. He turned the key and the small vehicle roared to life. Larry looked at Sal over his shoulder, and the shorter boy finally made his way over to (basically his doom) Larry.</p>
<p>The brunette handed him a helmet. The only helmet, in fact, and as Sal was putting it on he tied his hair up in a man bun. Sal tried not to stare. </p>
<p>“Alright, hop on. You’ll have to hold onto me. I promise I won’t drive too fast though,” he said, flashing that fucking smile again. Sal nodded, getting on the bike and tentatively wrapping his hands around Larry’s waist. He muttered his address and directions to Larry when prompted, and then they were off. Sal made a mental note to call Ash later and apologize, already feeling bad for leaving but knowing it was too late to turn back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>im finally gonna end this! it wont be as long as i had initially planned but i would really like to finish it soon :3c</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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